Dreaming of You
by TinkerbellReturns
Summary: AU: When Regina gave Emma the gift of "good memories", there was only one unexpected side effect: her real memories of Neal were replaced by he lies she told Henry in True North. In the meantime, back in Storybrooke, Pan's curse settles in and leaves Neal with altered memories and a fake name that is a testimony to Pan's twisted sense of humor. Rated M for smut in Ch. 3 & 6.
1. Chapter 1: Christmas is here

**Response to jungle_ride's prompt:** _"Emma and Neal bump into each other at a Christmas tree lot (this can be canon, aka after they get back from Neverland, or an AU first time meet I don't mind) and they both want the same tree and neither of them are willing to give it up. Shenanagins ensue."_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Christmas is here**

He woke up in the morning of Christmas Eve to the sound of clashing wooden boards.

Part of the fragile rooftop of his shack had collapsed again, and snow was finding its way in.

"Oh not this again..." he complained, pulling back a blanket full of holes as he rose from an equally worn-out mattress. His eyes were still half-closed when he picked a broom to sweep the accumulated snow on the ground - a chore whose uselessness he took less than one minute to realize.

He looked up at the hole above his head, a little smile curling his lips as snowflakes fell on his face. He liked winter, even though his shack had no heating and that meant he spent a great deal of time wrapped up in old blankets.

He liked that time of the year.

He had just closed his eyes to imagine himself eating a delicious roasted turkey instead of the can of beans he was about to open when a heavy wooden board fell from the roof and hit him square on the nose.

"Son of a..." he cussed, tears filling his eyes as he touched a freshly open cut on his cheek.

He tried to ignore the sting on his face while he looked around for a roll of toilet paper; upon not finding any, he cut a piece of an empty box of cereal and placed it under his eye to stop the bleeding.

What a way to start the day, he thought, peeking through the tiny window on the wall.

_'Greeting cards have all been sent, the Christmas rush is through...'_

Apparently, the family from the house on the other side of the street had woken up as well, their selection of Christmas carols filling the air as well as the smell of bacon and fresh coffee.

His stomach grumbled.

_'But I still have one wish to make, a special one for you... Merry Christmas, darling...We're apart, that's true..."_

He let his gaze drop to his feet, the song feeling his heart with unexplainable sadness. Sometimes, he felt like a widower, pining for a love or for a family he used to have.

If only he had been married, at least. Or known love. But, as far as he could remember, he had always been alone.

_'But I can dream, and in my dreams... I'm Christmasing with you..."_

"I'm gonna buy a Christmas tree," he whispered to himself, as he watched a couple of kids run joyfully from the house to play in the snow.

After splashing his face with the icy water he kept on a basin, he started searching around for things he could sell among those he had collected in his last trip to the nearest dumpster. Luckily for him, people seemed to get rid of lots of unwanted stuff during Holiday Season.

His eyes lingered on the tiny, beaten up dreamcatcher he had found in the garbage in the other day. For some reason, he got the feeling there was something wrong with it: its reddish and yellow feathers somehow not matching a mental image he carried from somewhere in his past. The one he kept seeing when he closed his eyes was bigger, and in much better shape.

He shrugged - skipping meals was becoming a pattern and probably making him hallucinate.

After pocketing all the coins he had been keeping in an empty peanut butter jar, he grabbed an old radio resting in one of the shelves, put on his coat and took a long, deep breath before going outside.

"Mr. Gold?" he called out, approaching the shack next to his and trying to keep his voice steady as his teeth clattered. "M-Mr Gold?"

"Hmmm?"

"Huh..."

"What?"

A skinny older man, wearing scruffy earmuffs and a very thick scarf, raised his eyes from the old newspaper he was reading to look at his face.

"Been thinking... Isn't it funny that your name is Gold?" said the younger man, stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. "Sounds ironic for a man living in a cardboard shack..."

"You know, that reminds me of someone in the very same condition..." Mr. Gold replied, with a pretense thoughtful expression on his face. "Now, who is that? Oh, I remember. You."

"Yeah. But your name... it's not as if our existence is exactly that precious, is it?"

"Speak for yourself."

"Just saying. No offense meant."

"None taken."

"Hey... Wanna buy a radio?"

He switched the device on, and the sound of static was the only one he managed to get out of it.

"A broken radio, you mean."

"It's not broken, it's just..." he replied, turning the dial in a useless attempt to make the radio work. "...broken."

The man by his side snorted, folding the paper and putting it away as he raised an eyebrow.

"How much do you want for it?"

"How much do you think it's worth?"

"Three dollars... and ninety-eight cents," said Mr. Gold, after giving him a handful of coins he had in the pocket of his shabby coat. "That's all I got."

"Thanks, man..."

His grin widened when he counted the money he had, his eyes shining like a young boy who had just been given the best of all Christmas gifts.

"I'm gonna buy a Christmas tree."

When he looked at the older man, though, he realized his enthusiasm was by no means reciprocated.

"Gimme my money back."

"Come on, it's Christmas."

"What do you want a tree for?" Mr. Gold asked, his voice full of the purest form of disbelief. "We are homeless! Where you gonna put it, in the middle of the street?"

"I'm not gonna buy a big one, I'll get one that fits inside."

Mr. Gold shook his head, once again reaching for his newspaper.

"You can help me decorate it."

The glare he got in return made the man's answer very obvious.

"Or not..." he muttered in response. "Anyway, I'm gonna buy some stuff to eat. Wanna join me?"

This time, he didn't even get a glare in response - only the most absolute silence.

"No big deal. Just some... mac and cheese," he added. "And gingerbread."

"I'll think about it," said Mr. Gold, from behind the newspaper.

He had no idea why he felt so happy with the man's response. It sucked to be alone in Christmas, and for some reason... he couldn't help but feel Mr. Gold, a stranger whose life he knew nothing about, except that he had lived on the street for as long as he had known him, was the closest thing to a family he would ever get.


	2. Chapter 2: The Christmas tree

**Chapter 2: The Christmas tree**

_'The logs on the fire fill me with desire… to see you and to say that I wish you Merry Christmas…'_

As the song kept playing, she let her mind wander for a moment.

She missed Henry's father.

She wished she could remember his face.

Instead, all she could see when memories of them both flashed before her eyes were diffuse, blurred shapes.

She couldn't remember his eyes, or his smile. She could bet, though, that Henry looked just like him the older he got.

_'…Happy New Year too… I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve… I wish I were with you…'_

"Can we get a Christmas tree?" asked Henry, breaking his mother's reverie as she drove down some snowy road in Maine.

"Gee, Henry…" by his side, a squinting Emma Swan tried to make sense of the road signs. "I don't know… We're staying in a hotel," she said.

_'That is… if we get to Augusta, for starters…'_ she completed, mentally.

"Oh. That's okay."

She turned to look at the boy on the passenger's seat, and felt her heart was being squeezed inside her chest. For some reason, her son had been morose for the past few weeks, and no matter how hard she had tried to get him into the Season vibe, seeing him smile was a rare treat…

"We've never had a Christmas tree, have we?" he asked. "At least, I don't remember us decorating one."

And then, she saw him turn to look at her, nodding as a little smile curled his lips before he spoke again.

"Maybe we can get one next year."

Sometimes, she felt she had never given Henry a proper Christmas experience. She wished she had parents and aunts and cousins and she wished Henry's father were not dead. She wished she knew how to roast a turkey, and that she had taught him all the Christmas carols as they hung their Christmas stockings over the fireplace.

She wished they had a Christmas tree that they could decorate.

And while there were things she couldn't change, some others…

"No," she said, her jaw clenched in cheer determination. "We'll get ourselves a Christmas tree _this year_."

And instead of looking for signs showing her the exit to Augusta, all she cared for at that moment was to find one indicating where the nearest tree lot was.

* * *

He could no longer feel his feet.

Taking a break was not as bright an idea as he had thought, because the wind seemed to cut his skin even deeper as he stood still, with snow up to his knees.

"C-Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…. to k-kids… from one to… the first snowfall of the Wint-ter…."

He kept on walking as he jumbled up the lyrics to different songs in an attempt to keep his mind busy, before it froze just like the rest of his body. Why, oh _why _did the tree lot have to be that far from the city?

He brought his hood closer to his face and rubbed his hands as he took the few final steps that separated him from a man in leather getting ready to leave on his van.

"W-Wait!" he screamed. "Wait… The trees… Where… where are the trees?"

"Sold out, mate."

The man raised an eyebrow as he glanced at him, looking strangely pleased with his obvious disappointment.

"All of them?"

"All of them except one," the man replied, as he reached for a tiny pine tree whose leaves were already going brown. "But I don't think anyone would want thi-"

"I do," he replied, reaching for the coins inside his pocket. "I have… ten dollars and thirty cents, is that enough?"

"Oh well…" the other man eyed the coins for an instant, his desire to profit trumping the satisfaction of ruining someone else's Christmas evening. "Why not? It's all yours."

"Thanks…"

As he held the small tree in his frozen hands, his grin widened. Now, he was ready for Christmas.

* * *

After hours driving around, Emma Swan finally spotted the tree lot - completely deserted now that a van drove out, except for one man, she could now see.

One man, _and a Christmas tree_.

"Henry, wait here," she said, before getting out of the car and slamming its door shut behind her.

"Excuse me, sir?" she yelled, trying to run as fast as she could over the fluffy layers of snow. "Sir? _Sir?_"

"Yes?"

When he turned around to look at her, his face partially covered by a hood, she couldn't brush away the feeling she had seen him before. However, there would be no time for introductions: she wanted a Christmas tree, and a Christmas tree she would get.

"I'm sorry, but that tree is mine," she said, her eyes fiery as she pictured Henry's excited face as she showed up with their first Christmas tree.

"Is it?" the man asked, wrinkling his forehead. "Funny, I don't see a name in it."

His eyes were full of mischief, and she gulped at the light flutter in the pit of her stomach.

"No, you don't understand. I need that tree."

"You mean you need a Christmas tree?"

"Yeah."

"A small one, like this one?"

"Exactly."

He let out a smile, and she realized his gaze was darting from her eyes to her mouth. And so, he was the flirty type… Just what she needed! Well, if flirting back ended up in her getting the tree, why not?

And it was not as if his face was not something pleasant to look at, anyway…

"Has anyone ever told you have beautiful eyes?"

"Thank you," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she let out a little smile of her own. He had a nice voice, too. A _very nice_ voice.

She blinked to bring herself back to reality.

"Can I have the tree now?" she asked, tilting her head to the side with a wink.

"This one?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're two minutes too late," he replied, winking back as he hugged the tree even tighter. "Just bought it."

Her mouth twitched as she watched him wet his lips, the mischief in his eyes glowing even brighter.

"But good luck finding another one," he said, before waving her a goodbye and turning on his heels.

"Wait, wait… I'll buy it back from you," she said, taking her wallet out of her pocket before setting out after him."How much do you want for it?"

Despite the offer, his pace remained as fast as before, forcing her to run a little to catch up with him.

"Will fifty dollars do?" she asked.

"With fifty dollars you can buy a better tree than this one."

"Well, turns out you're holding the last tree in a radius o-"

"Look, lady, I'm sorry to break it up to you," he answered, stopping rather abruptly and making her collide with him. "But some things are just not for sale."

He was scorching her with those hazel eyes of his, and much to her dismay, no words came to her aid. Instead, she simply opened and closed her mouth several times, feeling incredibly annoyed at that man - and even more annoyed because she couldn't bring herself to look away from him.

"So take your money and your… expensive boots and go get your tree somewhere else," he said, throwing a final glance towards her before he resumed walking, which only made her blood boil even more.

No one walked out on her like that, let alone taking her son's Christmas tree with him!

Her eyes fell upon a pile of logs, and before she even thought about what she was doing, she picked up a particularly heavy one and hit him right behind the head with it.

She covered her mouth when he stumbled forward and landed on the fluffy snow face first.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled, spitting out snow as he rubbed a painful lump on his nape.

"Oh, God! I don't know what got into me!"

"Who hits another person with a log on Christmas Eve?!"

"I said I'm sorry!"

"Actually, you didn't!"

"I'm sorry! _I'm sorry!_"

"Well, next time, _hit harder_!" he screamed, still livid as he picked up the tree from the ground. "You're still not getting this tree!"

And, again, he continued to walk - this time, much faster.

"Sir, you don't underst-"

When she didn't finish her sentence after a couple of seconds, he glanced behind him to look at her.

She, however, was no longer there.

He frowned as he looked around. Only then did he realize they had been trailing the edge of a somewhat steep hill, and when he approached it, he saw the blonde woman sprawled on the snow several feet away from where he now stood.

"Jesus Christ, what the-?" he muttered, trying to go reach her without rolling downhill as well. "You really like to have a laugh on your birthday, don't you?" he said, looking up to the sky. "Or on your birthday's eve, whatever."

After finally sliding down the few feet left on his descent, he put the tree down and kneeled next to the stranger.

"Lady? Lady, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm… fine."

"Why are you so desperate for a Christmas tree?" he asked, after helping her get on her feet.

She had just opened her mouth to speak when a boy dashed in.

"Mom!"

"Henry…"

"What happened?" the boy asked, slightly out of breath.

"Nothing, kid, I'm fine."

"Is this your son?"

"Yeah."

"Who's this?"

"Why didn't you say something?" he ignored the kid's question for the time being - it was not as if he had introduced himself properly to his mother anyway.

"Because… here's a lesson," Emma pulled her son closer to look at his face. "Sometimes we can't have everything we want."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and smiled.

"And it's no big deal."

She brushed the snow off her clothes and threw away a dried branch that had gotten stuck on her hair on her way down.

"Merry Christmas," she said, turning to look at him again. "And… sorry about your head. And for trying to bribe you. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," he replied, an instant before she bowed slightly and turned on her heels with the boy by her side.

"Is that our Christmas tree?" he heard the boy ask.

"They're out of trees, Henry, I'm sorry, we were too late. Maybe next year?"

"No prob… Did you get hurt?"

"No, I just… Well, the snow is fluffy."

They both giggled, and while they did, he looked down at the tree he was holding.

"Wait!"

He hurried to catch up with them before they made it back to their car.

"You guys will need this more than me," he said, giving the boy his Christmas tree.

"No, we can't… we can't accept that," said Emma. "It's yours."

"If it's mine I can do whatever I want to do with it. Take it."

The two of them exchanged a long, silent look, in which he felt his heart had just skipped a beat.

_Where did he know that woman from?_

"Merry Christmas," he muttered, before waving a goodbye and walking away. True, he no longer had a Christmas tree, but for some reason... he couldn't help but smile.


	3. Chapter 3: Watch out for Charley's girl

**Chapter 3: Watch out for Charley's girl**

He parked his car and let out a sigh after looking at the woman on the passenger's seat.

Emma Swan was a tough cookie.

She was good at pilfering stuff. And she could come up with the best distractions. She was a hell of a business associate, and she _knew it._

He heard her sigh as well, taking off her glasses to rub them on the rim of her dress.

And damn... was she pretty!

"Come on," he said, getting out of the bug and motioning for her to follow him.

"Where?"

"Business hours are over," he replied, as he walked gingerly towards a pub across the street. "Time to relax."

"A bar, again?" she asked, joining him without much enthusiasm.

"I would take you somewhere else if you just told me what you enjoy doing."

His statement was met with the most absolute silence.

"Do you like singing?"

"No."

"Mini-golf?

"No."

"What do you like, then? Other than stealing cars, I mean."

He laughed quietly at his own words. The maximum he could get out of her, though, was a smirk.

"Is that an attempt to get to know me better?"

"Could be. Or to tick you off, whichever works."

And then, she chuckled.

_Finally._

"How charming," she said.

"Yeah, right?"

When they reached the pub, he jumped in front of her.

"Here, let me hold the door for you."

"Thanks."

He was still beaming when she walked past the second screen door, and let it snap closed on his face.

"I want to congratulate you for your performance today..." he said, rubbing his nose as he took a seat by her side at the nearest counter, "Faking an asthma attack when that dude spotted me stealing soap was very resourceful," he smiled, tilting his head to the side. "And believable."

"I suppose one of us had to think of something..." she replied, with a raised eyebrow.

"I know that. I was...I was just testing you."

"Oh. Of course you were."

They ordered their drinks when a waiter approached them, and as they did, Neal's eyes fell upon a jukebox in a not so distant corner.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked.

"Lou Reed."

"Get out!"

"What?"

"You don't look like a Lou Reed's fan."

"Maybe I'm not a fan, I just... I just like his songs."

"I see..."

With a mischievous smirk, he stood up and made his way to the jukebox, fumbling with the few coins he had in his pocket.

"Let's get you a song, then..." he whispered, as he scanned the available options. "There!"

He turned on his heels to look at her when the song started playing.

_'Everybody said that you'd better watch out... Man, she's gonna turn you in...'_

She was shaking her head with a half smile, her foot tapping the stool in sync with the music.

"And me, you know that I thought that I looked out..." he sang on his way back, wiggling his eyebrows.

He saw her chuckle again, biting her lip as he sat next to her.

_Victory, at last._

"Oh, now will you look at that..." he said, raising his glass as he looked at her face. "Is that a smile I see?"

She pushed her glasses farther up her nose, and her face was serious when she came closer to him.

"What else do you wanna see, Neal?" she whispered, her mouth a mere inch from his.

His lips were slightly parted as he prepared to take the first sip of his drink, and he couldn't help but gulp.

"Hmmm?" she insisted, her hand going up his thigh and making his hand shake for the fraction of a second as he stared at her.

Instead of replying, he slowly leaned in to cover the distance between them...

…only for her to pull out at the last minute and take her glass to her lips.

"You...' he complained, with a slight frown.

_'Watch out for Charley's girl... Watch out for Charley's girl...'_

He finally drank some of his scotch, but apparently his day was not out of surprises just yet.

"Wow..." he coughed, feeling his throat was on fire. "This... This tastes odd! Try it."

"I don't like scotch."

"Yeah, you do."

"Not today..."

She looked way too amused for him not to suspect something. But then, maybe he was just imagining things?

He took another gulp of his drink, and once again, he felt he had just swallowed a fireball.

"Gee..." he spluttered, coughing until tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Can you... can you give me a minute?" he asked, before excusing himself to rush to the bathroom, unable to see much in front of him.

When he looked at his reflection on the mirror, he realized his eyes were red, and that his throbbing lips were slightly redder than usual.

"My God..." he muttered, as he splashed water on his face. "Will wonders never cease..."

He dried his hands on a paper towel, and a thought gave him pause.

He remembered Emma's hand on his thigh... going up... ever so slowly...

And then, his own hand jumped to his pocket, feeling it for his car keys.

"Emma Swan..." he whispered, with a mischievous smile. "You little devil!"

In the absence of a plan on how to go out of a pub without paying the bill, he went for the usual: escaping through the bathroom window.

Much to his luck, that meant he got out just in time to see Emma pulling into the road.

"Hey!" he screamed, running to catch up with her. "Hey!"

He was slightly out of breath when he stopped in front of the car, forcing her to slam the brakes on.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"You can't leave!"

"Yes, I can. And I will!"

The car moved forward an inch.

"No!" he yelled back. "It's _my_ car!"

"It used to be, I stole it from you, remember?"

"We work together now."

"I don't remember signing any contracts!"

"Emma, come on..."

"Get out of the road or you'll hurt yourself, Cassidy."

"Neal, call me Neal!"

"What does it matter how I call you?"

"You don't want to go, you know that!"

"Oh, really? Watch me."

To prove her point, she made the engine roar as she pumped the gas pedal.

"Why?"

"I don't owe you an explanation. I barely know you."

"We've been working together for weeks!"

"So what?"

"You know me. I... I know you. I mean, I'm trying to."

"Get out of the road!"

"No," he said, crossing his arms. "You want to go, then you'll have to run me over."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

He could see that behind the windshield, she had just let out an annoyed sigh as she shifted gears and looked over her right shoulder... But, much to his surprise, instead of backing up, their yellow bug lunged forward as soon as she pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

Next thing he knew, his back was colliding with the windshield, and a few seconds later, with the concrete surface of the road.

"Oh my God!"

Her voice, at first, sounded rather distant.

"Neal! _Neal!_"

He blinked, scrunching up his face in pain.

"Oh my God!"

When he turned his head to the side, he saw Emma had knelt by his side, nothing but sheer panic showing on her face.

"I told you..." he muttered, trying to sit up but quickly giving up as his muscles complained. "You can't drive stick... to save your life!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"You ran me over!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Did I break the windshield?"

He raised his head from the ground with a concerned frown. That car was their home! Last thing he needed was to cause it some damage.

"You didn't," she replied, her hand resting on his forehead as her eyes darted from his face to the rest of his body. "Did you break... something?"

"How am I supposed to know?" he snarled. "Do I look like a doctor?"

"Does it hurt?" she asked, touching his leg.

"Ah!"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes!"

Her hand moved up to his arm, but no matter how delicate she tried to be, he felt his whole body had just been tossed into a meat grinder.

"Don't," he said, gently pulling her hand away. "Don't touch me."

He let out a sigh as he let his head fall onto the floor again, trying to relax his muscles as much as it was humanly possible in those circumstances.

"I just need a moment."

He closed his eyes for a whole minute, and when he opened them again, he saw Emma had just sat next to him.

"Can I drag you to the sidewalk?" she asked quietly. "I don't feel safe in the middle of the street."

"Just gimme a moment," he replied, covering his eyes with his forearm. "You can wait on the sidewalk, if you want to. Actually...you don't have to wait."

He turned his head to look at her.

"You can go, you have the keys."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm begging you," he replied. "_Go._"

"What?" she frowned, the smirk on her lips making it clear she was having none of that talk. "You don't wanna be with someone who might outsmart you?"

"I don't wanna be with someone who might kill me!"

The effort to give her a convincing answer made him cough, the bitter taste in his mouth from minutes earlier making him wince.

"I said I'm sorry!"

"What did you put in my drink?"

She lowered her eyes to the ground, looking embarrassed.

"Tabasco," she whispered.

"How much?"

"A lot."

"Jesus... Why?"

"I wanted to get rid of you."

"I noticed that. But why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, still not looking at him. "I've always been on my own. I'm not used to having people... hang around."

He studied her face for a minute, seeing her saddened gaze from behind her glasses as she played with her bootlaces.

"So you try to kill them?" he asked, a smirk curling the corners of his lips.

"Don't tell the cops..."

She finally raised her eyes to his, and the two of them chuckled.

"I wonder what you do to guys who try to kiss you..."

"You tried to kiss me."

"I didn't!"

"Back in the pub?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, you did."

"Fine, I... I kinda tried to kiss you..." he replied, rolling his eyes. "And then you put Tabasco on my drink and ran me over, there you go," he added, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Now we know what you do to guys who try to kiss you."

For the first time since they had met, Emma Swan was genuinely laughing.

_And she looked prettier than ever._

"Emma Swan..." he whispered, as he slowly stood up. "What a character..."

"Yeah..."

"You're a hell of a business associate."

"You're not bad yourself."

"You still have a lot to learn, though," he said, as he limped back to the bug and she followed suit, walking by his side.

"Pfff..."

"_Pfff_ what?"

They both exchanged a glance, and seemed to have the same idea at the same time.

Soon enough, they were both trying to push each other out of the way as they fought to see who would open the door first and take the driver's seat.

He playfully elbowed her once.

She pushed him back.

He pushed her again.

She clutched his jacket.

And instead of pushing her for the third time, he pulled her into his arms and waited, their lips almost touching as he pressed his forehead against hers.

She clutched his jacket even harder, pulling his chest closer to hers as she leaned against the bug, and without waiting any longer he covered her mouth with his, his hand cupping the back of her head as she parted her lips to welcome his tongue.

His breath grew heavier when one of her hands slipped under the jacket to tug at his tank top, little whimpering sounds escaping her throat as the kiss grew deeper, the vibration making him shudder as he sucked slowly on her lower lip.

He opened his eyes for a moment, just to see her slightly flustered, chest heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath. Her pulse was racing - he could see it from the throbbing vein in her neck, which he slowly covered with his lips, licking the soft skin as his hands ventured downwards.

When her hands went up to his hair and she raised one of her legs to wrap it around his waist, he was already rock hard, and there was no way she would have missed it - not now, when she was grinding her groin against his.

If they kept it going for much longer...

"Let's get inside," she panted, reaching for the door handle and jumping onto the backseat .

He made to follow her as quickly as he could, but a stinging flash of pain on his lower limbs reminded him of his injuries as he climbed into the car. He lowered his head to hide a wince as he sat down, but there was no time to take a break. In a swift move, Emma straddled him and pulled him into another searing kiss, her tongue going even farther into his mouth as she held his shoulders.

While they kissed, one of his hands was busy keeping a steady grip on one of her thighs. As to the other... he just couldn't help himself.

She gasped into his mouth when his fingers closed around one of her breasts, giving it a not so gentle squeeze.

"Sorry," he panted. "Am I going too fast?"

"Yes," she whispered in response.

He opened his eyes, and tried to get himself together and stop before he reached the point in which he _really_ wouldn't be able to stop.

"I'm s-"

"Don't stop," she added, smiling as she took off her glasses and let her hair down.

It was his turn to gasp when her hand reached for the bulge in his pants, rubbing his erection through the thick fabric.

"Emma..."

"Hmmm?" she purred, as she pressed soft kisses over his neck.

"You sure about this?"

She pulled back for a minute so that she could look at his face. Without a word, she took off her jacket and her top, and he was left staring at her white lacy bra - until that too was gone, and her perfect breasts were in full display. His eyes darted from one erect nipple to the other, his mouth watering as his cock twitched under her.

"Yeah..." she whispered, placing his hands over her breasts as she looked into his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He brought her lips to his in a clear attempt to steal her of any oxygen left in her lungs as his tongue invaded her mouth once again, and they both sucked and licked and bit each other's lips as if there was no tomorrow.

While she was helping him out of his jacket and tank top, she shifted her knees in a way that they both rested in what was probably the most bruised part of his thighs, and he couldn't help but wail in pain.

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide as she studied his face.

"N-Nothing... My legs... It just... I'm fine."

The shocked expression on her face probably meant she had just remembered she was straddling a man that had just been run over.

_By her_, by the way.

"God, am I... Am I hurting you?"

"Yeah," he replied, resting his head on the seat as he caught his breath.

"I'm-"

"Don't stop."

His eyes were still closed when he chuckled. When he opened them, she saw her smiling as well.

"Maybe you should be on top?"

Before he could reply, she moved away from him as carefully as she could, although obviously forgetting they were in the backseat of a miniscule Volkswagen beetle as she lifted her head and bumped it against the roof with a loud thud.

"Careful, baby," he whispered, reaching for her head as soon as she winced. "You okay?"

"I'm fine... Better than you."

She chuckled as she lay down on the backseat - or at least, tried to. It was not as if she were the petite type, so finding a comfortable position for the two of them wasn't exactly something easy to do.

When her bare shoulders were resting against the window, he helped her out of her boots and tights, and he saw her skin get covered in goosebumps when she was finally naked.

Whether it was because she was cold, or nervous, or both, he could not tell.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered, as he carefully parted her legs and lodged himself between them, resting the palms of his hands on the seat and leaning forward to press soft kisses all over her eyes, her chin, her collarbone...

He slid back to kneel between her legs, tilting her hips upward and biting his lip when he saw her sex was covered with a glistening layer of lubrication, ready for him, _waiting_ for him...

His eyes locked with hers as he unzipped his pants, pulling his underwear down just enough to release his engorged, pulsating penis. He felt his stomach clench when her gaze dropped to his groin, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as he brought one of her hands to his veiny shaft and closed her fingers around it so that she could stroke him a couple of times.

Her mouth was gaping open, and he couldn't hold back a throaty, loud moan when her thumb rubbed the sensitive spot just under his glans.

"Fuck, Emma..."

"Gimme my bag."

"What?"

"My bag."

His eyes darted around frantically as he looked for her bag. If only he knew what he was looking for! Was she even carrying a bag when she entered the bug?

"On the floor," she managed to whisper, her hand still going up and down his swollen cock. "Where your left foot is now."

With a shaky hand, he reached for the bag and gave it to her, gently pushing her other hand away so that the fun didn't end before it even began.

He was already breaking into a sweat when she poured the contents of the bag on the floor by her side, fumbling with a variety of tiny objects until she emerged again, a victorious look on her face as she held a condom between her fingers.

They both smiled as he took the packet from her hand. At that point, so what if his muscles were sore and the bruises over his body decided to ache all at the same time?

_He was going to make love to Emma Swan._

"Ready?" he asked, his pulse racing as soon as he positioned himself between her legs.

She nodded and brought his mouth to hers for another kiss as he slowly entered her, waiting for her body to adjust before pushing farther in.

"Wait, wait..." she panted, biting her lower lip with her eyes closed.

"Is it hurting?"

"No, just... wait..."

He kissed her neck, and then her jaw, waiting for her body to relax.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," he replied, touching her face as he kissed her lips. "Want me to stop?"

"No. Just kiss me."

He was more than happy to comply.

As his mouth made love to hers, their tongues softly caressing each other, he felt her muscles relax, and he slipped a few inches deeper into her.

"Yeah..." she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders as he started moving in and out. "Fuck yeah..."

"Baby..."

"Yeah..."

He kissed her again, his heart racing as her warmth enveloped him... He wanted so much to last longer, but her soft lips on his, her breasts pressed against his chest, her wet, tight sex... the pleasure was just overwhelming...

The cold wind made him shudder.

Where was the wind coming from, anyway? The windows were closed, weren't they?

When he opened his eyes, he saw it had started snowing again, and the wind that had just made him shudder had come from the hole in the rooftop that he hadn't yet fixed.

He was not in a car.

He was, as he had always been, in his shack.

_It had all been a dream._

A dream with the woman he had met a few hours ago.

He frowned when he shifted on the mattress, feeling something warm slide down his inner thigh.

"Oh, no..." he whimpered, after peeking into his boxers and seeing the mess he had made. "I'm out of wipes, goddammit!"

What a cruel, _cruel _mind he had.


	4. Chapter 4: Your wish might come true

**Chapter 4: Your wish might come true**

There was not much he could do to fall asleep again after that little accident in the middle of the night.

Outside, all sounds had died down as families went to bed. The Christmas lights were still shining bright, but the absence of voices and carols made all of them lose some of their enchantment. Even though snow was no longer falling, it was still cold, to the point of making his teeth clatter.

Slowly, the dream that had awakened him started to fade... He felt he was grasping at straws as he tried to remember its details, or at least the parts that could... well, _keep him warm_.

The first rays of sunshine found him heating up the leftovers of his Christmas supper over an improvised fire in a sheltered corner outside.

"Mr. Gold?" he called out, after knocking on the older man's door. "Mr Gold?"

"What?"

"I made you breakfast."

He looked at the can of mac and cheese he was holding, and shifted on his feet as he waited for his neighbor to show up.

"You sure you don't wanna go to the diner for lunch?" he asked.

"You mean, to the annual _charity_ at the diner?" Mr Gold replied, with a sneer. "No, thank you very much."

"You're way too proud for a man who lives in a shack…"

"And you, apparently, are not proud enough," the other man replied, before taking a spoonful of pasta to his mouth. "Who's Emma, by the way?"

He gasped, taking a step backwards. _Where had that come from?_

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard you call her name... Or rather, _moan_ her name." Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows with a smirk. "Multiple times."

"I'm sorry about that," he said, after clearing his throat. "I was… I was… dreaming."

"Make sure to keep it down the next time, then. The walls of your residence are not exactly soundproof."

He swallowed, feeling his ears were going red as he stared as his worn-out boots.

"She's the lady I gave our Christmas tree to," he said, sheepishly.

"Oh, is she?"

"Yeah."

"And in that dream of yours… Did you at least get to ask our money back?"

The two of them snickered, and he felt his stomach flutter as the image of her face flashed before his eyes.

"I feel like I know her…"

"Well, to all due effects, you do," Mr. Gold replied. "Getting hit on the head with a log is still a form of bonding, I suppose."

"That only proves she has fire," he said, tilting his head upwards with a defiant look on his face. "That she will fight for what she wants. I like that."

"You like suffering, that's what."

"Nah, don't say that…"

"You're right…" the older man replied, putting down the can of mac and cheese. "It's Christmas, after all."

They both looked at the poor replacement of a Christmas tree they had assembled from dried branches and other stuff they had found in their neighbors' garbage bins.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Gold."

"Merry Christmas, Killian."

* * *

Emma Swan had had better nights of sleep in her life. Not that she had anything to complain about when it came to the quaint B&B: the bed was comfortable, the complimentary hot cocoa was delicious, the room smelled nice and it had been a long time since she had treated herself to such a glorious bubble bath.

Everything was just fine. Except… _the thermostat_, maybe?

She fanned herself, wishing to get out of her flannel PJs as soon as possible. It had just been a poor choice of clothing, that's all. That was why she was sweating. That was why she was… _wet._

"Not that kind of wet," she whispered to herself. "Maybe, that kind of wet. God, what am I even saying? It was just a dream, just a dream, just a-"

"What dream?"

She jumped at Henry's voice behind her.

"What?"

"You had a dream? What about?"

"I… I d-don't remember," she stuttered.

It was partially true, after all. Her mind was a mess of jumbled images and sounds: that man, a pub, a car, a jukebox, a_... condom..._ She had to shake her head when her fingertips started tingling.

Better not think about it much.

"What about you," she asked, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy's head as she pulled him into an embrace. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock…" Henry replied. "I don't even remember turning the TV off."

"That's because I turned it off for you, smart pants," she replied, shuffling his hair. "You really do sleep like a rock, don't you? Just like your father…"

Her chin trembled slightly as she looked at her boy, the sadness for half of her family not being around for Christmas mixing with the gratitude for being able to keep the other half around.

"Have you checked our tree already?" she asked, after kissing him again. "Has Santa dropped by?"

"Mom, I'm 12."

"And?"

"_Santa_?" Henry raised his eyebrows as he spoke. "Really?"

She let out a smile, looking at the boy in front of her with nothing but wonder in her eyes. Her little child was growing up, and what a wonderful young man he was turning into…

"Go check the tree," she whispered.

The boy shook his head, smiling as well as he walked to the corner of the room where they had decorated their Christmas tree with ribbons and lights.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, eyes wide as he picked up a long, rectangular package. "Is this… Is this what I think it is?"

"You'll have to open it to find out…"

She crossed her arms and watched him tear off the gift wrap, his eyes glowing with excitement when a leather case came into view.

"Is this..."

"Yup," she answered, before he got to finish his question. "The mysterious cutlass we found in the trunk of our car."

"Wow...!"

His jaw dropped when he finally saw the blade, carefully placed next to its sheath inside the box.

"You like it?"

"Thanks, mom!"

"Yeah... Well, now that you've seen it, and held it, and now that it is officially yours, I'm afraid I'll get this back."

He had just picked the cutlass up with all the care and reverence he could fathom when his mother gently took it away from him.

"What?" he shrieked. "Why?"

"Because this is a weapon. It can hurt people, and sorry to remind you, buddy... You're only 12."

"But then... Why did you give it to me?"

"Because I want it to be yours. And it is," as she spoke, she picked another package from under the tree. "But... the thing is... Have you ever used a sword before?"

"No... Have you?"

Her gaze was vacant when she looked at the package she was holding, as if she were lost in memories.

"No," she muttered in response. "But I suppose it is never too late to learn?"

She then handed him the other package, and waited for him to unwrap it as well.

"We can practice together..." she said, as her boy looked at the set of wooden swords he had just received. "What do you say?"

When he smiled at her, she couldn't help but pull him into another bone-crushing embrace.

"Now go take a shower, it's almost lunchtime!" said Emma, as she urged Henry into the bathroom. "I hear they are having quite a party downstairs, and the food is amazing."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me take a shower," he told the dark-haired girl at the counter as soon as he got back to the diner, after taking every minute of his time to get dressed. Once a year, he got to feel like a king - taking a real shower in a real B&B and having a real lunch.

Once a year, he got some of his dignity back.

"And for letting me do my laundry. I really appreciate it."

"Well, it's Christmas, isn't it?" said the young woman.

"One day I'll have money to pay for one of those rooms, you wait and see."

"If there is a time to make a wish, I'd say this is it."

"Thanks again."

"Merry Christmas."

"For you too."

_Little did the dark-haired woman know._

If he had one wish to make on Christmas day, it would have nothing to do with money.

He only wished he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

* * *

"Hey!"

When Emma Swan and her son got downstairs, they were welcomed by the same dark-haired woman in a mini skirt holding a tray.

"You enjoying your stay?"

"A lot," Emma replied, resting one hand in the boy's shoulder. "Right, Henry?"

Henry's eyes, however, were somewhere else.

"Henry?"

"Hmm?"

"What is it, kid?"

He finally turned to look at his mother's face, with a slight frown.

"It's the Christmas tree guy."

Her head whipped around, and her mouth went dry when she located him in a booth near the door.

_That man._

Why her heart was racing like that was beyond her understanding. Perhaps it had something to with the fact that hours ago, at least in her dream, they were-

"Oh," she muttered, looking away for a moment.

"He looks lonely."

"He's always by himself," said the girl by the counter. "I guess he's used to it."

"No one should spend Christmas alone..." Emma whispered, a dull ache in her chest when she remembered her own life before she had met Henry's father. "Doesn't he have a family?"

The dark-haired woman shrugged, before moving around the counter with her tray filled with drinks.

"None that we know of."


	5. Chapter 5: Time for a city tour

**Chapter 5: Time for a city tour**

_A/N: Some of Emma's lines were taken ipsis literis from True North, as you will notice. _

"Can we join you?"

He must have looked incredibly dumb as he looked at her face. His mouth was probably gaping as he stared into her green eyes, his gaze accidentally dropping to her lips and then going up to her forehead, as if he was trying to memorize every line of her face.

"Can we?" she asked again.

"Oh."

"Or are you waiting for someone?"

"What?" he muttered.

To think that only hours ago, at least in his dream, the two of them had been-

"Are you waiting for someone?"

He had to shake his head to finally return to reality.

"No. No, you... you go ahead," he said at last, a smile curling the corners of his lips as he spotted the boy by her side.

"Hi."

"Hi kid."

"We never introduced ourselves properly, did we?" Emma asked. "This is Henry, and I'm Emma. Emma Swan."

"Killian," he replied, stretching his arm for a handshake. "Killian Jones."

"Nice to meet you."

"Same."

He watched as the two of them took their place on the seat opposite from him as they waited for their food.

"Ain't you cold, buddy?" he asked the boy, who appeared to be shuddering as he rubbed his arms.

"It was warm in our room..." Henry replied.

"It should be warm here too, but that door will open and close far too often," he said. "Better get yourself a coat."

"Mr. Jones is right, Henry," Emma replied. "Here, take the keys."

He waited until the kid had turned a left in the corridor and exited the diner to look at the woman in front of him again.

"So..." she said, lacing her fingers over the table. "We meet again."

"Yeah... Not much of a big city, this one," he replied, trying to look cool and collected despite a certain amount of anxiety. It was not as if he had an interesting life to talk about anyway. So what would they talk about?

He then asked her the first thing that popped to his mind.

"Is the kid's father here too?"

"No. No he isn't."

"You guys divorced?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that... He... _He died_."

"Sory to hear that."

"It's fine. It's been... a long time. Henry actually didn't even get to meet him."

"What was his name?"

"Neal. Neal Cassidy."

He frowned for a moment. He had heard that name before.

_Where had he heard that name before?_

"I met him when I was pretty young," she continued. "I used to work at a diner just like this one... And, um… He was training to be a fireman. He always got the worst shifts, so he'd come in and order coffee and pie and sit at the counter and always complain that we didn't sell pumpkin pie. But he always came back the next night anyway."

"Did you two get married?"

"No... But we meant to. We talked about it one day... One week later, he died saving a family from a burning apartment building."

He noticed her chin had started trembling as soon as she stopped speaking.

"Sorry," she said, smiling brightly in an attempt to hide her sadness, even though her eyes were glistening with tears. "You only asked for a name and I turned it into a sob fest."

"That's fine. Sometimes it's good to talk."

He took his time to finish eating the few bits of turkey left on his plate. He didn't want that lunch to end.

"Where do you live?" he asked, grasping at every little topic that came to mind. "You guys are not from here, are you?"

"Oh, no. Not really, no. We live in New York."

"New York? Gee, that's a long drive til Maine. What brought you here?"

"See, Henry doesn't have many friends, and our Christmases have always been... lonely. We barely have memories of them," her eyes grew vacant for a moment, but one second later she was once again pushing any apparent sadness aside. "So, to cheer him up, I picked up a map, told him to point, and whatever spot he picked, that would be where we would spend our Christmas."

"And his finger landed exactly on this town?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Augusta, actually," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I took a wrong turn somewhere in I95."

They both chuckled before she spoke again.

"Turns out he liked the place... And so did I."

When his eyes met hers, for the first time since they had met, he felt his heart had just been squeezed, and his whole chest ached. He frowned as he studied her features, wondering why his feelings were such a mess when he was around that woman.

"I'm back," said Henry, whose presence neither of them would have noticed if the boy had not announced himself. "What are you guys talking about?"

His gaze shifted to the kid, and he couldn't help but smile.

"I have to get going," he said.

"Do you live near here?" Emma asked. "We can give you a ride, we were going to drive around a little to see the city, anyway."

"Yeah, you can be our tour guide," Henry added.

For a moment, he realized that it all looked too good to be true. Spending Christmas day with a full stomach, clean clothes and a gorgeous woman and her son by his side? What else could he ask for?

"Well, why not?" he said, his grin widening as he looked from Henry to Emma, and then back to the kid. "But make sure you eat first. And then get the dessert, they serve the best pies ever in this place."

"Do they have pumpkin pie?" Henry asked excitedly.

"Yeah," he replied, before winking at the boy. "And it happens to be my favorite."

* * *

After they had eaten, and talked, and laughed to their hearts' contents, they headed outside to finally get into the car and go on their city tour.

Emma noticed, however, that the man by her side seemed to have frozen the moment he took the passenger's seat.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah..." he muttered in response. "I just... It's... I feel like I've been in this car before, how weird is that?"

He chuckled, and she did the same.

Both of them looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"So, what is our first stop?" asked Henry.

"Well, I was thinking of showing you the woods, but since it started snowing again, I don't think it will be much fun..." he replied. "It can be dangerous to go there when the weather is bad, you can fall and... break something."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Fall and break something when you were there?"

"Oh, I do that all the time, even when the weather is good," he chuckled. "I don't think there is a single bone in my body that I haven't broken."

"So... does your family live here too?" the kid asked.

"Oh, I... I don't have a family," he said, blinking and swallowing a lump in his throat as he spoke. "My mother... she... she kinda gave me away when I was a little boy."

"I'm sure she had no choice," Emma whispered, glancing at him with a saddened expression on her face.

"Actually, she did," he replied, scratching his nose as he looked out of the window. "She sold me to the circus."

"She _what?_"

"Yeah, I never quite understood that story very well. But, what can I do? That's all I remember."

She was about to say how terribly sorry she was when Henry popped his next question.

"What about a father?"

"He died."

"Mine too."

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Henry's eyes dropped to his hands as he leaned back onto the backseat.

"Hey, we're missing the views," she heard Killian say, after clearing his throat. "To your left, the Municipal Library..."

The boy, however, was not done with the questions.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I do not."

"Mom doesn't have a boyfriend either."

"Henry!"

"To your right, an abandoned pawn shop... no one ever knew who the original owner was..."

She whipped her head to look at the man who, once again, tried to dissipate any awkwardness by continuing with a tour none of them was really paying attention to. She was still staring at his face when his voice brought her back to reality.

"Hey, eyes on the road!"

She clutched the steering wheel, feeling strangely bothered by that particular line. The bug complained loudly when she shifted into the wrong gear, and she blinked nervously when he looked at her with a smirk.

"Driving stick is hard, isn't it?"

"I know how to drive stick, okay?"

"Oh, I can see that..."

Behind them, Henry looked from one face to another as if trying to understand why his mother was so flustered and the tree man seemed to be having so much fun with it.

"If you were hoping to find a driving school during our tour, I regret to inform there are none in this town."

"Ha, you're hilarious," she snarled, getting even angrier after the second time the engine stalled.

She took a long, deep breath before trying to get the bug to start again.

Nothing.

She tried again.

_Still nothing._

"Excuse me, I'll... I'll go check the engine."

"There's nothing wrong with the eng-"

His sentence was cut short when Emma got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Okay... Okay... Just get yourself together," she whispered, walking to the back of the car to lift the hood and pretend she was looking at the engine. "You're fine. He's just... trying to get on your nerves. Do not let him know it's working."

She stole a glance towards the backseat, and saw Henry engaged in some serious conversation with the man on the passenger's seat. After slamming the hood shut, she took another deep breath and headed back to the driver's seat.

"So?" she heard the man ask.

"We're good to go."

"I see."

"What's our next stop?" she asked, trying to sound completely cool and collected.

"My house."

"Excuse me?"

"We're here," he said. "That's where I live."

Henry leaned forward with the same frown she was now sporting.

Before them, there was nothing outside but a snow covered road and a few trees every here and there.

"There is nothing here."

"Oh, I know," the man replied with a smirk. "It's a few blocks away still, but the road is in bad condition so you can just drop me off here."

"But-"

"I had a great time," he said, opening the door and stepping outside just to look over the seat with a smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, Henry."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Jones."

"But-"

"Merry Christmas, Emma."

Her mouth was still gaping slightly when he closed the door and waved her a goodbye.


	6. Chapter 6: Getting caught

**Chapter 6: Getting caught**

"You like candy, don't you?"

She smirked as he spoke, shaking the extra large bag of Skittles as she shifted on the passenger's seat.

"Yeah."

"You know who else likes candy?" he asked, after she aimed a red Skittle at his open mouth and missed, as usual.

"You?"

"_Ants_," he replied. "Emma, it will be hell to get rid of the bugs with all the sugar you're throwing around."

"I only missed it twice."

"You missed it way more than twice."

A green Skittle hit him right on the nose.

"I mean, are you even trying?" he chuckled. "Maybe it's time to get you some new glasses..."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious..."

"Maybe if you stopped moving I'd get it right."

"You have one more chance."

She took the bag of Skittles from his hands and kneeled on her seat, a smile curling the corners of her lips.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, and when he had followed her instruction, she placed a piece of candy between her teeth and lowered her lips to his, pushing it into his mouth with her tongue.

"Better now?" she whispered, as he smiled against her lips.

"Much better..."

She felt his hand go up her neck until it was cupping her head, pulling her closer for another kiss. When they broke for air, she put another Skittle between her lips, but this time, when they repeated the procedure, he pulled away quickly, choking and gasping for air.

"If you don't know how to play..." she said, moving back to her seat as she stifled a chuckle, "then just don't."

"Hey, it was _your_ idea!"

"Yeah but _I_ didn't choke."

"I can think of something that would make you choke..." he whispered, wiping away the tears as he caught his breath.

She raised her eyebrows, mouth gaping slightly as she stared at him.

"Pervert..." she whispered, trying to ignore the gentle tingle between her legs.

And then, she let out a sigh, looking out of the window as she put the bag of candy away. Either it was an awfully hot day, or her body was playing a trick on her.

Who was she fooling, anyway? She knew _exactly _why she felt she was on fire.

She bit her lip when Neal shifted on the seat by her side.

"Sorry," he said, scrunching up his face. "That sounded way less dirty in my mind..."

When she turned to look at him, he was giving her his trademark apologetic look, but the smirk on his lips left no room for doubts.

_He was thinking about the same thing she was._

"Oh yeah?" she asked, leaning closer to him with a mischievous smile. "What else is on your mind?"

"You better not know..."

"Tell me..." she purred into his ear, her hand sliding down the front of his T-shirt until her fingers were grasping the fly of his jeans. "Show me what would make me choke..."

"Emma, people can see us."

She glanced at his face and couldn't help but chuckle. His eyes were darting around in concern, and she couldn't blame him, really. Making out inside a car on broad daylight, in front of the city's busiest park on a Friday afternoon... They were asking to get caught.

"They can't see me," she replied, resting her head on his lap as she shifted on the seat so that she was lying on her back, knees bent over the passenger's seat.

"They can see your legs," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-Huh."

"Can they see I'm not wearing panties?"

She looked up at him to see his reaction. It was not as if she needed much visual confirmation, though, given how fast he was getting hard under her touch.

"Jesus, Emma..."

He bit his lip, chest heaving up and down as one of his hands left the steering wheel and made its way to one of her knees. She realized he was trying to look cool and relaxed, as if nothing was really going on as his fingers slid under her dress and over her inner thigh, in case someone was watching. And indeed, it was rather remarkable that he was managing to keep a straight face while she rubbed him over his pants.

When his fingertips finally reached their slick, warm destination, though, he couldn't hold back a moan, and his face gave him away.

"Holy fuck, Emma..."

She saw him bite his lip and the expression of pleasure on his face was probably mirroring hers as his fingers gently slid in and out of her.

"Neal..."

With closed eyes, she raised her hips from the seat to meet his hand, legs quivering in response to his caresses.

For a moment, his eyes darted around again, and after a brief scan of their whereabouts, he unbuttoned his jeans to release a very solid erection from inside his underwear.

"Yeah, baby..." she whispered, fingers wrapping around the throbbing flesh as soon as it came into view. "Gimme that Champ..."

"That _what?_" he muttered, knuckles white as he clutched the steering wheel for dear life, trying not to let pleasure overpower him as he insisted on looking like just another regular, decent citizen that had gone for a ride in his old VW.

"Champ."

"Champ?" he asked, licking his lips as he looked at her face. "You gave my dick a name?"

"Yeah..." she replied, before letting her tongue slide across his length, flicking it against the slit playfully. "Got a problem with that?"

She saw his eyes had rolled back into his head, and his fingers were now wrapped around her ponytail.

_So much for looking life a decent citizen._

"Hmmm?" she insisted, taking the head into her mouth as her eyes searched for his. "Do you?"

"Give it as many names as you want..." he muttered, inhaling deeply as he slowly thrust his hips upwards so that more of his throbbing cock would go past her lips. "Oh shit..."

When she looked up again, there was panic written all over his face.

"There's an old lady looking at me."

She couldn't help but chuckle against his groin.

"It's not funny!" he replied.

"Yeah, it is."

"What should I do?"

"Just smile."

As she spoke, she kept her eyes on his face, eager to see what he could come up with as her hand went up and down his shaft.

"She's still looking..." he said, between gritted teeth.

She took that line as her clue to make his life even harder, and wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, sucking it fiercely as she lavished it with her saliva.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, his face slightly contorted in pleasure as his hands curled into fists. "Emma!"

"Is she still looking?"

"Yeah... Wait, I think she's leaving."

"Wave goodbye, then."

"Ha, you're hysterical," he muttered. "Why are you doing this to me?"

She smiled before taking all of his cock into her mouth, making him throw his head backwards as he moaned.

"Excuse me?"

A voice next to them made him jump, and she froze on the spot, with her eyes wide open and fingers wrapped around his fully engorged shaft.

"Sir, can you help us?"

She did not dare to look up to see what was happening, even because his hand was forcing her head down so fiercely she wouldn't be able to move even if she wanted to.

"S-Sure," she heard him stutter.

"Can you tell us where the Children's Museum is? We're from Michigan and we're completely lost!"

Emma had to cover her mouth to stifle the laughter rattling inside her chest.

"T-The...The... The Children Museum?" he stuttered again, trying to push her hand away as she stroked him even harder while he spoke. "No, madam... I'm... I'm afraid I'm not. I mean, I don't. I can't."

She could only imagine the woman's face as he staggered on his response.

"I can't because... I'm not from here."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Thanks anyway."

"Alright."

She saw him raise a shaky hand to wave the other car goodbye, and then his eyes were on her.

"Emma, this is-"

Before he could finish his sentence, though, she was back into the game. In one shift move, she tilted her head in a way that all his length slid inside her mouth, and towards her throat. From that angle, she realized they were lucky that the ignition was not on - if it were, the way his foot had just pushed the gas pedal to the floor, they would have flown into the city park.

"God…"

She kept her mouth in place and felt the muscles of his thighs clench as she sucked him harder, completely unaware of what was going on around them as he thrust into her mouth.

Since Neal was just as oblivious to their surroundings as she was, neither of them noticed the IKEA delivery truck that stopped next to them at the traffic light, nor the school bus that drove slowly past as children glanced at the park from behind the windows, a few curious eyes dropping to the yellow car right below and eliciting concerned instructions from what sounded an awful lot like a grown-up.

"Kids! I want you all away from the windows right now!"

"But why is that girl-"

"Katie, I said… _away.. from.. the window_!"

When Emma finally emerged from his lap, the bus had already left, and Neal still had his eyes closed as he cursed quietly.

"Still not choking…" she whispered into his ear, before nibbling at his earlobe.

His eyes were hungry when he looked at her and helped her steady herself as she prepared to climb onto his lap. At that point, he didn't really look that concerned about the possibility of being caught having sex in the middle of one of the main roads of Portland.

"Are we out of condoms?" he panted, as she straddled him on the driver's seat.

"Yes," she replied, pressing kisses all over his face. "No. I don't know?"

"Can you reach the glove compartment?"

She stretched her arm in a hurry and fumbled with all sorts of papers and packages before finding what she was looking for.

"Let me put it on you…"

He brought her mouth to his and they kissed as she rolled the condom down his shaft, eliciting hoarse moans from him as she panted into his mouth, the corners of her mouth curling up in a smile as she held his cock and lowered her dripping wet sex onto it.

"Oh, baby…"

She cupped the back of his head as he rested his forehead on her shoulder, sighing.

"This is crazy…" he whispered, although by now not really bothering to scan their whereabouts. A yellow bug rocking the way it probably was would give them away no matter how decent he tried to look, so why even try?

"I know…" she whispered back, as sweat trickled down her forehead.

"Oh God, we're gonna be arrested…"

"Then be fast, baby…"

"No…"

"Yeah…"

"No… I wanna see you come," he panted.

She gave him a searing kiss as she led one of his hands to the spot where their bodies were connected.

"Touch me."

"Like this?" he asked quietly, as he tickled her clit with a timid gesture.

"Harder."

"Better?"

"Harder, Neal!"

"Oh God…"

She squealed when he followed her instructions and gave her inner lips a firm squeeze.

"Yeah… Yeah, Neal, don't stop…"

Her pulse was racing. By now, she really didn't care if the cops had already been called after some mortified family pressed charges for their public indecency.

"Neal…"

She was riding him as hard as she could, feeling a tidal wave of pleasure boiling up in her lower stomach.

"Neal."

He was kissing her neck, his heavy breathing making her shudder as she reached her peak.

"_Neal!_ Oh my God…"

"Mom?"

"What?"

"Mom?"

Her eyes shot open when she finally recognized her son's voice.

She, however, did not find the courage to turn to look at him, not after he had just walked into.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, kid… How… How long have you been here?" she said, pulling the covers up to her nose.

"I woke up when you started screaming."

_Oh dearest mother of God._ She felt her face was turning purple with embarrassment, so she simply sat up and covered her eyes in an attempt to hide her pink cheeks from the boy in pajamas standing by her side.

"Were you dreaming of dad?"

"What?"

She finally turned to look at him, and saw him look back at her with a frown.

"You were calling his name. Was he hurting you?"

"Uh… No, no… He wasn't… hurting me," she said, blushing fiercely as she remembered what he was actually doing.

One day, she would have that talk with her son, but definitely not that day.

Not when she realized, with a great amount of concern, that even though it was Henry's father's name she was calling in her dream, the face that actually flashed before her eyes was that of the same stranger that had been in her dream the night before.


	7. Chapter 7: The Heart Knows Better

**Chapter 7: The Heart Knows Better**

"Again?" asked Mr. Gold, as soon as his neighbor came out of his shack, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on, I can't... I can't control it." He looked positively distraught as he spoke, running his hands through his hair. "As soon as I fall asleep, she just... she just takes over."

"Well, I'd say she made quite an impression on you."

He was pacing up and down, trying to figure out why she looked _so familiar_, why those dreams felt _so real_... when all of a sudden his eyes landed on the corner where their improvised Christmas tree should be standing.

"Do you know when she's leaving?" asked Mr. Gold.

"What?"

"She will leave, eventually, won't she? You said she's from New York."

"Yeah..."

He took a few steps forward, frowning as he saw a tiny pine tree where the dried branches and other pieces of rubbish used to be. Next to it, there was an envelope, which he was quick to open.

_'Didn't mean to stalk you, but the kid really didn't want to let go. He wanted to see where you lived so... Yeah. I drove until you got... home?'_

His eyes darted around as he stopped reading for a moment. She had been there. She had seen the piteous shack where he lived and oh boy... that had been exactly what he had tried to avoid.

_'Anyway, just thought you could do with something more Christmasy in your front yard. Call it, 'shared custody'.'_

He touched the card softly right where she had drawn a smiling face.

_'Merry Christmas - Emma & Henry. And thanks for the tour, it was fun to have you around._

_PS: Nice pendant, by the way.'_

He looked at the tiny Christmas tree again, and at the swan pendant resting on the top of it. He was glad she had been considerate enough to transfer it from the previous 'tree' to that one - that pendant, for some reason, was the most precious thing he had, and it would break his heart if, for some reason, it had gotten lost.

* * *

"Have you packed everything, Henry?"

"Yup."

"You sure? We're not gonna be back anytime soon, so make sure you double check."

She looked out of the window as the boy kneeled on the floor and looked under his bed for the fifth time that morning.

"Nope," he said, getting to his feet. "I packed everything."

"Good."

She ran her hands through his hair, wondering where that dull ache in her chest was coming from. She was not supposed to have grown attached to that place. After all, she had only been there for two days, and it was not as if that town had that many attractions anyway...

Except for _him._

_He_ had made that place special. Whether it was by giving them a Christmas tree, or by joining them at lunch, or by breaking into her dreams at night...

If only she could see him one last time.

A knock on the door broke her reverie.

"Did you order room service?" she asked her son.

"No. Did you?"

She frowned as she slowly walked towards the door.

"Who is it?" she asked, staring at the ground as she touched the door.

"Room service!"

"We didn't order room service."

_Silence._

"Uh... It's me, Killian. Killian Jones."

It took her a moment to match that name to the man that went by it. If there was one thing she was good at, it was names, and that name, for some reason, didn't match him _at all_.

When she opened the door, she wished she could have held back her smile. As it was, she felt he would obviously notice how pleased she was to see him again.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"Did you... did you read my card?"

"I did," he replied, taking off his beanie and holding it timidly in front of him. "Thanks for the _'shared custody'_".

"Well... It's only fair, since... we're leaving."

"Already?"

There was such sadness in his expression that she had to swallow a lump in her throat.

"Yeah..."

"Mom, we're gonna be late for br-oh hi, Mr. Jones!"

She saw him smile when Henry showed up by her side, and she realized that since they first met in that tree lot, his smile would _always _make her heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Henry, why don't you go ahead and get us a table at the diner," she said. "I'll be with you in a minute, okay?"

"Okay."

"Oh, Henry, wait."

The boy turned on his heels when the man behind him reached for his shoulder.

"I-I brought you a gift."

"A gift?" she whispered, looking at the small package he was holding. "You didn't have to."

"It's no biggie," he answered with another smile, as he fumbled nervously with the package. "It's just... something I thought he should have."

"Oh..."

The three of them watched as the boy pulled a small dreamcatcher from inside the brown paper wrap.

"What is this?" asked Henry.

"It's a Native American dreamcatcher," he replied. "It's supposed to keep all the nightmares out, and only let the good dreams in."

Henry's eyes seemed to glow as he heard the explanation.

"I.. I think I used to have a bigger one, but... I don't know where he is," he raised his eyes to Emma, looking apologetic. "But I hope it will help you sleep better, buddy," he added, patting Henry on the shoulder.

"Sleep better?" Emma looked confused. "Why, have you been... having trouble sleeping, kid?"

"Kind of..." the boy replied, staring at his own shoes.

"Yesterday... while you were checking the engine of your car, Henry and I talked for a while," he explained. "He told me he'd been having nightmares."

"Nightmares?" she whispered. "What kind of nightmares?"

"I... I sometimes dream I'm ripping my heart out of my chest."

What?" Emma's voice was low and sad when she spoke.

What a horrible thing for anyone to dream of. To see the fear in her son's eyes made it all even worse.

"Henry, why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry..."

"Oh, Henry..."

She pulled the boy into a tight embrace, rubbing his back as she tried to comfort him.

"I'll be okay," he said, as he took a step back and smiled. "Thanks for the dreamcatcher, Mr. Jones!"

"You're welcome, kid."

"Mom, I'll be waiting for you at the diner, okay?"

"Okay..."

She watched as the boy took a turn at the end of the hallway and left the two adults behind him on their own.

"Hey..." By her side, the man that had been visiting her in her dreams took a step closer, with a tiny box in his hands. "I brought you something as well."

"You didn't-"

"... have to. I know."

They both chuckled quietly as she opened the box.

"But I wanted to. I mean, you said you found it nice..."

When the gift came into view, she was positive she had never been given anything that valuable. No diamond rings or expensive jewelry would ever make her heart beat that fast. And yet, pressed between her fingers, nothing could look more modest and unimportant to a passerby: a mere swan pendant, made up of cheap material, hanging from a plain silver chain.

"You like it?" he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he wetted his lips.

"I feel like I know you..." she whispered, still staring at the pendant.

"Me? Or the pendant?"

"Both..."

When she raised her eyes to his, she couldn't actually figure out whether he was pleased or saddened by those words.

"Maybe we do..." he replied, blinking slowly. "From another life."

She smiled sadly, the dull ache in her chest growing more intense as she stared into his hazel eyes.

"I just wanted to say that I had a great time," he whispered. "I know we didn't get to spend much time together, but... I enjoyed every single minute of it."

"Does that include the part where I hit you in the head with a log?"

"It does. Don't tell anyone, but I... I like women with a strong personality."

"Even if she hits you."

"_Especially _when she hits me."

Something in his voice made her shudder lightly - and in a very pleasant way, although he didn't seem to have noticed it.

"Oh," he muttered, looking mortified. "Now that sounded weird."

"No it didn't, I... I'm okay with that."

"Should I worry?"

She licked her bottom lip with a raised eyebrow, before clearing her throat with a much more comfortable smile.

They had only known each other for two days, and yet, he made her feel totally at ease when he was around.

"Oh, look at us, talking about kinks..." she said, looking away as she rocked back and forth oh her heels.

"Heh... Oh, speaking of kinks, before you go, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Uh..." It was his turn to look uncomfortable, fidgeting with his beanie. "Since the day we met, I have... I've been having these very strange-"

"... _dreams_?"

She was not sure she should do that.

Probably, she shouldn't.

But she did it anyway: when he took a step forward, staring at her lips in a way that made his intentions far too clear, she covered the few inches separating them and surrendered to a kiss she had been meaning to give him after the first time she saw him.

And then, she felt her whole body had been swept by a wave of electricity and heat as she pulled him closer, hands resting on his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

When they parted and she opened her eyes, she felt a tear run down her cheek.

"Neal," she whispered, looking at his puzzled face as she took a step backwards.

"Emma!"

In the seconds in which their lips had been together, she saw an entire lifetime of loss flash before her eyes. Stealing a car, meeting the father of her child, being arrested, giving birth in jail, giving her son away, then coming to Storybrooke and meeting her parents, then finding Neal again and losing him again as he went through a portal, then saying goodbye to the mother and father she had just met...

She felt more tears run down her face as all the pain from so many forgotten memories rushed back to her mind.

"Emma?"

She sobbed, staring at the ground while she tried to find her voice.

"Emma, you did it," he whispered, holding her head in his hands. "You broke the curse. You did it."

"Dad!"

"Henry!"

Next to her, she could see the two of them hugging, and her heart broke even more.

She had given her son away. All the memories of his childhood... His first words, his first steps, his first day at school, his first scraped kneecap… The memories of their life together before Storybrooke and all the madness... They had never really happened.

_She hadn't been around for him._

"Mom?"

When the boy grabbed her hand, she saw a shadow of sadness in his eyes, despite the happiness of being reunited with his father.

Of course, now he remembered too.

"I'm sorry..." she said, pulling him into a hug as she cried. "I'm so sorry, Henry."

"It's okay."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She kissed the kid's forehead after a heartfelt sob, and tried to smile despite all the feelings clashing inside her chest.

"Henry... can you give me a minute?" she said, nose blocked as she wiped her tears away.

"Sure," he replied. "I'll be waiting for you guys outside."

"Neal... You too. I need to be alone."

She saw him nod, and then rub her shoulder with an understanding smile.

"Okay."

* * *

"Bae!"

As soon as he stepped out of the diner, a familiar voice made his head turn.

"Bae! Son!"

"Papa!"

It didn't take long for him to spot a man with matted hair, wearing a collection of mismatched rags and a dirty trench coat, trying to make his way through the crowd gathering in front of Granny's.

"My boy..." said Rumplestiltskin, when the two of them hugged. "Oh thank Goodness."

"She did it, Papa... Emma, she broke the curse."

"Good..."

He felt his father was now holding him even tighter, and when he looked at him, there was an obvious glow of pride and affection in the older man's eyes.

"I now can go back to a better-dressed version of myself," said Rumplestiltskin, with a snicker.

"At least Pan let you keep your Storybrooke name!" Neal replied, laughing heartily as he touched his father's face. "He was not that kind to me!"

"Oh well, what can I say... My father always had a bizarre sense of humor."

They hugged again, and as they did, Neal's eyes caught Snow and Charming looking at him expectantly.

"Hey..." he said, slowly pulling away from the hug to walk towards them.

"Neal!" said Snow, barely managing to hide her anxiety. "Where is Emma?"

"She said she needed some time."

"But can we see her?" asked Charming.

"I'll go inside ad tell her you're here, okay?" Neal replied. "Gimme a moment."

He inhaled deeply as he prepared to walk into the diner. He walked past Regina and Henry hugging each other, and after winking at the boy, he made his way to Emma's room.

"May I come in?" he asked, after knocking on the door.

However, there was no response. His heart started racing as ominous thoughts filled his mind, so he knocked on the door again, much harder than the first time.

"Emma? Are you there?"

"Yes."

"May I come in?"

"Yeah..."

He opened the door slowly, and saw her sitting on an armchair by the window, holding up her knees as her reddish, puffy eyes rested lazily upon some point on the road down below.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, pulling a chair to sit by her side.

"Fine."

"Do you remember who your parents are?

"Yeah. I remember... _everything._"

"They're waiting for you outside."

"I know. I can see them. I'll be there soon."

Her voice was quiet and slow, just as distant as her gaze.

"How did this happen?" she asked, finally turning to look at him.

"What part, exactly?"

"How did Henry and I... how did we end up here, of all places?" she continued, chin trembling as she spoke. "And how... how did I fall in love with you again?"

He let out a sigh, the unlikelihood of it all finally sinking in. She was living in New York. Then, by some twist of fate, she and Henry were headed to Augusta for Christmas, but ended up in Storybrooke instead. And, one morning, he had simply woken up feeling an inexplicable urge to buy a Christmas tree.

"How is this even possible?" she whispered.

"I don't know..." he said, reaching for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. "I don't know how any of this happened, but... I'm glad you're here."

He took her hand to his lips, and kissed it before covering it with his other hand.

"Yeah," she said, a little smile getting the best out of her before she could hold it back. "Me too."

* * *

The two of them were walking down the hallway when Neal threw her a sideways glance - the kind that always got her into trouble.

"Now, about those dreams..." he started.

"You mean, _memories._"

"Exactly. See... Maybe we should thank the bug."

She stopped walking, and looked at him with a frown.

"I mean... It was... like... a very important part of the dreams..."

"_Memories._"

"Yeah."

She started walking again, although her head was still tilted to the side and she had to bite back the urge to laugh. _'Thank the bug'_. Years later, and that man still thought she wouldn't know when he was talking about sex? Or yet, about _having sex in the bug_?

"So," he continued, after raising his eyebrows and trying to look casual as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Maybe we could show it our appreciation?"

"And how are you planning to do that?"

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop and turn around.

"Why don't I tell you over drinks?" he asked, with an expression that looked awfully familiar.

Her shoulders shook as she laughed in silence, staring at the ground before raising her eyes to his face. No matter how much she tried to stay away from that man... Her heart knew better. They would find a way back to each other, against all odds.

_And she was grateful for that._

"We'll see..." she whispered, before picking up her pace with a peaceful smile on her face.


End file.
